


would we never fight?

by rnadoka



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Implied Suicide Note, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Letters, M/M, Post-Break Up, keith's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13138065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rnadoka/pseuds/rnadoka
Summary: Keith wishes it all could've been different.





	would we never fight?

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly can't stop writing about klance for one second, can i? anyways, here's some more angst :D i don't know where i was really going with this, so i just went with the flow. sorry if it sounds weird, i didn't look over it cause...i'm just lazy HAHA  
> comments, kudos and (constructive) criticisms are welcomed and very much appreciated!!!

"I can’t believe I’m writing to you. How cliché of me, writing to an old love. I’m sorry. This will probably be the last letter I write. I’ll try to make this good, meaningful. 

I remember the first time your mother ever laid eyes on me. She had such loving eyes, motherly eyes. She smiled brightly at us everyday when we walked in after school. There were times I wished my own mother was more like her, loving, warm, caring. My mother was cold. She disliked weakness, and love, to her, was one of the greatest weaknesses one could have. Love was caring so much for one that you’d do anything for them, sacrifice anything for them, live for them. And she wasn’t capable of showing that to me.

Now, each time I see your mother, I feel like there is a hole, burning through my chest. She doesn’t smile her warm smiles, she doesn’t ask me how I’m doing; she tries to look away. When I see your mother, it’s painful. I know that it makes her angry. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so horrible about someone’s gaze in my life.

Everyday, when I hear your voice in the hallway, I rear right around and almost run, as if I’d just been burned. Your stare reminds me of your mother’s, my mother’s. It hurts, and makes me sick. When I hear Allura’s kind laugh during gym, I can’t bring myself to look at her. She reminds me of you. Everyone reminds me of you. I’m terrified of talking to people I once was close with, people whom I’d confided in for ages. They sometimes look like you.

There are many days I imagine what could have been. How our relationship could’ve changed, how our relationship could’ve been salvaged. It seems like these thoughts never leave my mind. Even in my dreams, I cannot escape the thoughts. I dream, dream of what it could’ve been like to have a kid together. A little tyke, running around our house. Us being fathers. I don’t know what we would call him, but I’m sure you’d come up with something amazing, beautiful. I sometimes recall good times we had together. I think back to when we were the only ones in the movie theatre, and we were having a popcorn fight. We were laughing so hard that we didn’t even have the thought of doing dirty things that teenagers do, being that we were completely alone. The popcorn, stuck all in our hair, kernels popping up out of nowhere for days. When we went back to your house and gently washed it out of each other’s hair. It’s so vivid.

I know you don’t want to hear any of this, but it’s like you never leave my head. I can’t go a day without thinking of you in some form; “Lance would love this show; Lance would love this song. Lance would love these socks. Lance would love, love, love. Lance would love me.” I feel like a kite, constantly strung up with the thought that maybe, just maybe, that you’d love me again. But that’s dumb of me, horrible. I know I’m betraying your trust by writing this; you probably never wanted to hear from me again. But I can’t help myself. 

I remember our first and last kiss. Our first kiss was chaste, shy and dare I say, cute. But our last kiss was anything but. I could taste the venom on your tongue, you could probably taste the venom on mine. We hated each other, I know. But sometimes I wish I’d forgotten that we hated each other. It’s an odd feeling to despise yet adore someone. I know you probably don’t feel the same way.

You will be in my thoughts until the last moment. I will always love you, even if my version of always is cut short. I’m sorry, Lance. Please believe me. Tell your mother I’m sorry."

\- Keith Kogane


End file.
